


One Night in Thanalan

by CauldronKeeper, DarthSuki



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Caretaking, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Masturbation, Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Mutual Pining, Public Sex, Shower Sex, Smut, Soul Bond, Teacher-Student Relationship, Wildly personal (and thirsty) headcanons about miqo'te dicks, Wildly personal headcanons on how soul stones work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 13:23:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18447446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CauldronKeeper/pseuds/CauldronKeeper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: Samilen Jawantal, the Warrior of Light, has recently taken on the duty of learning the dying art of red magic. Between the wonderful teaching of X'rhun Tia and the passing on of his Soul Stone, Samilen has learned a lot even in a short period of time, but there's something wrong. The Soul Stone is passing on more than mere techniques and knowledge--emotions, memories, all of them intertwined as one, bringing Samilen closer and closer to the man who had entrusted him with it.Samilen finally seeks out X'rhun for help in combating these feelings, but what will happen to the Warrior of Light when he is caught in a balancing act of not red magic, but love and lust?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing adaptation/formatted version of an RP I have been writing with my fiance, putting together my [Keeper Miqo'te WOL (Samilen Jawantal)](https://samilenjawantal.tumblr.com/) and X'rhun Tia, the red mage teacher. I'm writing Samilen, and she's writing X'rhun--apologies for any formatting errors, please let me know if you find any so I can get them fixed!
> 
> If you'd like, you can also find me and her both on tumblr ([Darthsuki](http://darthsuki.tumblr.com/) and [Blood--Hunter](https://blood--hunter.tumblr.com/) respectively). We'd love to hear what y'all think of the ongoing story! :3c

The Coffin and Coffer could be described as many things. Decerped came to mind first. But what mattered most to X'rhun was that it was usually quiet, and offered a relatively peaceful place to have a drink. 

Just earlier he had given Samilen a soul stone. A supplementary-like item to facilitate someone's quick joining of the Red Mage's ranks, which were already thinned down to but two members--X’rhun himself was but one of those members, the other being someone only recently trained. Nevertheless, he trusted Samilen. He was already a strong, determined individual. That much X'rhun knew. 

But he didn't know what was to come, and that was an adventure in and of itself. 

The doors to the tavern open and X'rhun almost thinks that it's another person come to seek shelter from the blistering heat of Thanlan's sun. Instead it is the white-haired miqo'te that he has come to know. The smile on his lips is easy and easier still are the words that leave his mouth. 

"Ah! Samilen! Come, join me for a drink." He says with his usual flourish.

At least it isn't hard to find the man. 

Samilen feels a smile form on his face at the sight of X'rhun, if only for the familiarity that has already begun to bloom whenever he so much as hears the older miqo'te's voice ring out over the bustle of the Coffin and Coffer. It's not a common thing for adventurers to find familiarity in things when they are so busy in moving around, especially as a Scion, but the few people fall into such places in Samilen's heart are hard to be forgotten or dismissed.

It's been a few weeks since Samilen had last seen X'rhun, though he already had a multitude of questions to ask--red magic was so much different than what he'd already experienced and, more subtly, he hoped to impress the man with what he's already managed to grasp. 

The young adventurer is quick to shuffle around the people in the tavern, making his way over to the table at which the red mage sits.

"I'm glad to see you," Samilen says, his voice just a touch louder than normal to catch over the boisterous energy of the tavern around them. "Do you have time for a couple questions between teacher and student?" His eyes catch as a barmaid makes her way closer to the table. "Though perhaps they are best after a few drinks--it has been a little while."

"Of course," X’rhun extends his arm, opening himself for questioning, as it was, "I would expect quite a few. Red Mages are few and far between and Alisaie mentioned you were quite the curious one." 

He winks, because  _ of course _ he has to, under that wide brimmed hat of his. The tavern is loud in the way that most are but X'rhun doesn't make an effort to raise his voice. Some things needed to stay between friends and Samilen was definitely his friend now. He wouldn't give his soul stone to just anyone. He had only known the younger Miqo'te for such a short amount of time but ... it was nice to have a comrade again, no matter how new. He just hoped he didn't turn out like his last ones. 

A bitter but happy thought.

Samilen isn't sure how to feel with the gesture and the words--or especially the combination of the two--so he tries desperately to keep a straight face as a mild heat creeps across his cheeks. It's hard, but at least he's able to keep a hold over his words, the questions had been gnawing at the back of Samilen's mind ever since he touched the ruby-red soul crystal.

Ever since the memories of red mages old all but stuffed themselves inside of his mind.

He doesn't want to seem desperate or, worse, naïve. Samilen had been good at things for so long that it feels awkward to know so little about a skill--it's not an uncomfortable feeling as it simply is unfamiliar, though it's hilarious yet that he's not used to feeling out of place for the things that he often does. If anything, Samilen waits for the first set of drinks to find their way to the table; he nurses the ale gently, knowing little for how strong the local brew is and very keenly aware of his lack of fortitude in all things alcoholic.

"I...am curious about some things," he finally finds the voice to say. "About how red magic affects...someone. I have briefly touched on white magic and felt much the effects of black, but this...is wholly different. Is it common to feel....side effects?"

X'rhun allows himself to lean forwards. He regards Samilen with much the same curiosity one had at a particularly interesting work of art. "Side effects? Well, there are some, I'm sure." He leans back again, resting one hand on the stem of his beer. He tries to think, hard, back two decades to when he'd first picked up his craft. "You would have to describe them too me. I'm afraid I don't quite know of what you speak." Or, at least, his old brain had let him forget his early days. He had been gallivanting around Ala Mhigo during that time, and many things had gone unnoticed their doomed plan to free the city, for example.

Ah, that's what Samilen had been dreading. For all that he had given thought to wording his concerns, all of those words leave him when called to bare themselves for an answer. 

The keeper stares down at his drink for a few seconds as if willing it to the be the most wonderful and glorious thing in the room--he could not hold the older man's gaze for fear that he'd catch something from the glint of Samlien's eyes, as the old rumor goes for one in any school of magic could very well peer into another's soul if given enough experience.

"Well, there have been...dreams. Visions." Samilen swallows down a rock that's formed in his throat. "When in the heat of battle I've caught glimpses of conflicts I've never been apart of. People I've never met. I could have sworn even that I once cast verfire and could have sworn I heard it in another's voice." He pauses for a breath, another, and then a third. "....your voice, to be specific."

X'rhun's ears flicker beneath his hat, perching at the front of his head like two dogs ready to strike. Ah. That had sounded more familiar that he would like. In his younger days, when he was just barely twenty, he had known much the same feeling. As he had gotten more and more used to his magic he had experienced intense visions of Red Mages past. 

He had even had more intense ... personal visions. 

Though he had never had the gall to ask his compatriots, it seemed much the same for those around him. Those who had received a Soul Stone at least, which was a rare occurrence--rarer still when a scant few still exist. How could he forget such a thing? No wonder Eorzea required a permit to their exchange, as rare of items as they were. 

He had wholly forgotten the negative side-effects and now Samilen was paying the price. 

"Ah," He says, pressing a thumb to his own chin, "That sounds about right. I believe it is your the work of your Soul Stone. It's not uncommon to experience such things from mages past. Don't worry, the more you slip into your magic the weaker they will become. They may be ... intense ... from time to time but it is normal. I promise.” X’rhun tries to offer a teasing smile. “You're like a teenager just coming into themselves right now." 

Samilen could almost feel the stone burning in the pouch against his hip, secured and rarely forgotten, though he isn't sure whether it's the stone or his face that burns hotter under the other miqo'te's heavy, nay, suggestive words. 

Though it gives Samilen a great sense of relief to know he's not gone insane, he's hardly to mention that the visions are not wholly  _ unwelcome _ . Comfortable, at times, if a little overwhelming. It feels very much the same as when Hydaelyn herself had enveloped the man in her warm embrace, a protection beyond what the physical realm can truly describe.

"Well," the man finally says, hoping to stall the moment with a long drink of the bitter, cold ale. "That...would explain a lot of things, I suppose. It is like...reliving the memories in the crystal? Only playing what has already been placed within it?"

X'rhun nods, "Exactly so." He confirms. Though putting memories into the Soul Stone was not an exact science. It was, in fact, mostly just the strongest memories the previous owner had while wielding it. Some of those were more ... sexual than others. His most powerful Vercure could exist right beside that time he'd rutted off to the sound of the pleasure house next door. Memories were much the same way, tied in strings in ways one could not decipher readily. "Do not fret. It is nothing to be truly embarrassed about." 

Still, X'rhun did not look forward to having to explain  _ some _ of the things Samilen would come to experience...assuming he hadn’t already.

Samilen could only stare at X'rhun in a mixture of blankness and exasperation, debating within himself if it was worth bringing his truer issues up with the man or not. Would the outcome be worth the risk of forever marking himself oddly to the red mage master? To tell him of the things Samilen has seen, experienced and even  _ felt _ ? It is through the ignorance of ever touching a soulstone, ever understanding the workings of such a piece of magic that fuels his fear to speak.

He doesn't know what X'rhun already suspects is happening to him.

"I'd wager to disagree on that," is all that Samilen can bring himself to say, heat growing ever stronger in his cheeks that he hopes it can be hidden and lied about by the thrum of alcohol instead, of which the younger miqo'te finishes with a long drink. It burns something horrible in his belly, but at least it loosens up his anxiety--just a little bit.

X’rhun fixes him with a look and lets himself move forwards, tapping the wood of the table in front of Samilen. He could take a guess as to what the other man had ... experienced. 

"Tell me..." He hums, tilting his head some. He had worked decades to be an honorable man. Had kept his Oath when all others had fallen around him. At one point he had thought of taking up drinking to soothe the ache, but alcohol costs much for a poor man. The sword had been a better addiction but roads tend to take you to interesting places. "... Have you felt the soft hands of a woman on your cock while you were near sleep?" 

Whatever shame X'rhun had used to feel left him years ago. There is only so much you can experience on the road before it doesn't bother you anymore. Explain to Samilen the echos of sexual encounters he would feel was just a drop in the bucket.

A new stone has found its way into Samilen's throat, thick and sharp and greedy for all of what lingers of the young man's fortitude and focus. He can't consider  _ anything _ but the question that lingers low and hard in the air between he and X'rhun, can't think of anything but how he'd spent the last several nights in a feverish haze of dreams and visions leaving him so near completion that it could have been labeled torture.

Samilen grips his glass tight, tight enough that he's faintly worried that it may crack against his grip.

"....it....wasn't a woman," is all the young keeper can bring himself to whisper, gaze fallen to the wooden surface of the table as shame begins to well up in his chest, a readiness to bolt out of the tavern already in the back of his mind.

X'ruhn's brows lift in understanding. Was that embarrassing to the younger man? Eorzea had not suffered from such bigotry in over a century. 

"Ah," He says, trying to keep his voice soothing but he can see the shame mounting in Samilen's eyes. A feeling a not un-similar to guilt builds in his chest. He reaches out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Look, Samilen we ... Lets go outside." 

He stands, lets his chair scrape loudly so that the attention is on him and not his companion, so that he doesn't have to worry about people staring at him.

Samilen is a man often told at how stoic he looks; as a Scion, as the Warrior of Light, as many things--he's been told how controlled he keeps his emotions or, on occasion, he's questioned if he feels them at all.  What's a hero if not one who looks fearless, after all?

But this is not one of those times, this is not one of those things--so easily can Samilen stuff the trauma of battle into the back of his memories, but hardly muffle the intensity of embarrassment and worry and a million other things that twist his stomach like a spring. All he can do is nod at the other man's suggestion, trying desperately to keep a cold, blank expression on his face as the two of them make their way outside of the tavern. The sky is darkening, the wind feels cool--it's a peaceful evening in Thanalan and one that Samilen treasures more with every passing day.

He follows X'rhun and tries desperately not to wring his hands together.

X'rhun leads them out and onto what could be called a patio. He stands, leaning his forearms against the wooden railing as he watches the dust swirl over the landscape. 

"This reminds me of Ala Mihgo." He admits, tilting his head slight. "I used to be quite the catch in those days. I had men and women both fawning over me. What a surprise it must have been for my father when I chose to become a revolutionary and not a Nuhn." 

He smiles, one small and rueful, "I suppose I should be sad at the path I chose but I do not regret it. Not in the slightest." He turns to Samilen. "I do not what you to be embarrassed around me, Samilen. It is alright to feel what you feel and I give you permission to act on it how you choose, but do not hide it from me."

Samilen's mind flickers between several emotions, though he does his best to focus on the soft words that fall from X'rhun's mouth, to think back on a time when the red mage master was young and when life was far short of worries and stress. And, truth be told, it wasn't all that hard to see him as the center of attention to others--even with the years gone by the older seeker still is quite admirable in more ways than one, though it was not until the effects of the Soul Stone that Samilen allowed himself but a passing fancy about those bright eyes, snow-white hair and almost haughty grin of his.

The keeper swallows thickly. "I imagine that it's much easier for you to say that, being on your side of the situation, though it's not particularly.....easy for me to bring up."

He's not quite sure if this is the outcome he wanted--would it have been easier for X'rhun to explain the meaning and simply tell Samilen to never speak of it again? To pretend as if it never happened? Samilen is not sure.

"Wouldn't you rather me hide it though? You offered these skills and knowledge as a teacher and this--these--these  _ feelings _ are hardly appropriate."

The seeker laughs lightly, moving to lean his hip against the wooden railing that scarcely separated bar from ground. 

"They aren't appropriate, no. But they are natural and they  _ do _ come with the business of soul stones. If feel the need to discuss them then I give you full permission to, but I will not force you into such a situation." 

He looks at Samilen, casting the young keeper a glance with his blue hues, "It won't do to hide part of yourself. Balance is part of a Red Mage's task. You must find the balance within yourself." A soothing smile works over his lips, "I am your teacher. I simply wish to help you find your balance."

Samilen brings a fist to his lips, teeth almost gnawing against one of his knuckles for a moment as he deeply considers the worth of his soul and if he is going anywhere pleasant in the afterlife. 

"And  _ that _ only makes it more reprehensible," he argues after a moment, finally dropping his hand so that he can play his fingers against one of the buckles of his shirt, pulling at the leather and metal in their eagerness to be doing  _ something _ . "There's hardly anything to talk about. I just--I want--..."

' _ I want them _ .' Though it's the truth, he can't bring himself to say something like that to the man before him. He's supposed to be ashamed of the feelings, and yet Samilen can't help but find himself almost desperate in the night's he's awoken by half-dreamt hands pressing against his skin and a powerful voice all but growling in his ears. It's certainly an issue that's creeping into Samilen's ability to learn red magic, but the keeper is desperately ashamed in that...well....he  _ likes _ them. 

"I don't know anymore." Is all he can finally say, hands moving up to hide his face in a moment of pure, overwhelming exasperation.

X'ruhn approaches Samilen in less than the time it takes to breathe. He crowds into the other man’s space space; he does not corner him, no, but he does get closer than he needs to be. 

His memories call back to Alisaie. She had been a different case entirely and had refused the soul stone out of principal. He wonders now if she knew the side effects, with how very learned she was she probably did. He feels guilt for forcing these feeling onto Samilen. 

"Do you need me to take it from you?" He asks, setting a hand on his shoulder. "If you can not handle it... if you feel panic at being shown these visions..." His brow furrows in worry. "Is there anything that I can do to help alleviate this pain?"

Samilen can practically  _ feel _ X'rhun as the man nears him, his body churning into overdrive as the trickles of emotions start to fall over his thoughts--his breathing quickens, just a hair, but it's enough to make his heart start hammering against his ribcage and throw his thoughts into chaos. 

The mere mention of taking away the Soul Stone brings Samilen's face back into view, expression suddenly distraught for a number of reasons--fear, longing, a feeling of pain for disappointing someone he trusts.

"No!" he says, almost hisses with a fervent shake of the head. "No no I--I want it, I want to keep it, I--"

X'rhun is so physically close. Samilen's body all but shakes, the Soul Stone burning his hip through the leather pouch and bringing forth flashes of memories from the evenings since taking the ruby-red gift in hand. The nights of hazy passion, of desperate mewls and the touch of Samilen's own hand finishing the memory of another, touch like fire against his cock.

All the keeper can do is stare up at X'rhun, face hot and ears pinned back, expression desperate for a mixture of reasons that twist hard in the pit of Samilen's stomach.

X'ruhn looks down, his brow quirks for but a fraction of a second before he move forwards again. 

"Samilen." He lets his voice slip low, a rumble in the back of his throat. "If you need something. You need to ask." 

It's not a command, he would never command him to do this. But he does let the hand on his shoulder squeeze a little harder before it slips lower down his arm, gripping softly at the meat of his bicep and pulls him flat to him. He knew that Samilen was muscled, a man who was once a bard could never not be, but he feels all of him against the planes of his chest, even with the layers upon layers of clothes he wears.

Samilen can't hide the gasp that falls from his lips when his body presses against X'rhun's own, the older's grip firm and unyielding as he tugs them together. It leaves so many things hazy and so many more things clear as crystal, though the focus seems to fall quickly on the fact that Samilen is but hard against his trousers and can't help but feel a shiver of pleasure in how good it feels when the red mage's hips slot against his own, if only for a moment.

"I need-" Samilen bites his lip and tries uselessly to get his brain to work, to organize the situation and all that's happening, to at least  _ try _ to put together all of the emotions in their rightful place. Alas, he can't--all he can think about is the man's low growl and rough hands on his skin.

"I need you." The words are hot with yearning. "Please, please I need--I need  _ you _ ."

X’rhun is quick to respond, slotting his own lips against Samilen. He has to bow at the waist to do it, so much shorter than him is the other man, but he manages it all the same. 

He takes Samilen into his arms, one hand going the small of his back and catching there, pressing him closer and closer still. This would be a quick rut. Not many people passed by the Coffer & Coffin, regardless they were also hidden by the shadows. Stranger things have happened in Thanlan than two men seeking pleasure with each other at the far end of a bar. His hand moves to Samilens crotch, pulling at the lacing there. 

"How do you want it?" He asks, voice husky in his chest.

"Just-" Samilen's voice catches in his throat as his mind all but rolls over the words, the question, made so ravishing by the deep tone of X'rhun's voice. "Touch me, fuck me, I don't care. Anything." 

Truly, Samilen hardly has a preference at that point, so addled with lust and yearning that he's hard-pressed to pick when the mere notion of X'rhun being pressed against him while he crests over climax is plenty enough to leave the younger man feeling dizzy with emotions. His hands reach up to grip at the other's shoulders, fingers winding tight in the ruby-red fabric that the keeper has come to know X'rhun for. He wants to keep the man close, so close, wants the moment to be forever seared into memory if only to sate the curiosity and wanting that digs against his heart and thoughts.

X'rhun presses closer, his hand stripping away the laces that keep Samilen's pants joined to his hips. He pulls them down slightly, revealing his underclothes and along with it, his straining cock. Thankfully the older male kept oils on him. In his travels they had come in handy from more things than just polishing his blade, euphemism entirely intended. 

He presses the Keeper's underclothes down, freeing him of their constraints enough to reveal his cock. X'rhun was already hard as well and this sight did not help matters much. He pumps Samilen, once, twice, but then his hand is working at his own pants, trying to get them off.

Though addled with heat and stomach all but twisting with lust, Samilen certainly has enough of his wits still about to reach his hands down between the two of them, eager to help loosen the front of X'rhun's pants. Every brush of the back of the seeker's hands against his cock feels like electricity down Samilen's spine, only spurring him on all the faster, the question of what the other man's cock may feel like rutting against his own nothing short of desperate.

"Let me help-" is all the younger man can say, words nothing more than a rush of sounds and syllables as his fingers find how to loosen the buckle at the front of the other's pants.

The keeper hisses, one of pleasure as Samilen's quick hands are able to press away his belt and laces as if they are nothing. His pants threaten to fall as he moves Samilen back. Farther away from the lamp light and into a corner of the patio where someone  _ might _ be unable to tell what they were doing. 

X’rhun is careful to tug down his undergarments, hissing once more as the cool night air touches his already sensitive cock. It was large, ribbed, with a bulbous head that had made him embarrassed when he was younger but was now a large boost to his ego.

With a blink, Samilen came to realize that X'rhun was nothing if not  _ proportional _ , leaving him with a heavy flush across his dark cheeks and a sudden twist to his stomach, as if his body could finally just  _ feel _ \--and twelve be damned, it  _ felt _ for what those golden eyes see. As their hips press closer, both of their cocks come close enough that Samilen just can't  _ help _ but compare, if only for a breath so hot and quick that X'rhun's comment of him repeating the coming into manhood was more accurate than he assumed.

"I never realized seekers were..." Samilen whispers hotly, voice trailing off as his eyes can't help but look down, then finally back up to the other man's face, lower lip drawn between his sharp teeth. "....bigger."

_ The Twelve help him; _ X’rhun laughs, only stopping when he bites his own lip. 

"I told you I was to be Nuhn, yes?" He says, taking one glove off and then the other. They fall to the ground without a care and he takes the oil from his pocket. "In Seeker tribes," He explains, pouring some onto his fingers, "When you become Nuhn you tend to become ... bigger. In more ways than in musculature." 

X'rhun rumbles another laugh. "I suppose I've gotten so old and been on the road for so long my body responded ... accordingly." He moves his hand behind Samilen, finding the base of his tail and then tracing down, circling his finger at his entrance. "I hope you don't mind."

Samilen all but whines as he feels fingertips tracing past the base of his tail, and squirms when those same fingers start to press against the tight muscles beneath. It brings to mind the last time he'd done something similar--which is to say but a handful of escapades several years earlier and with men and women of equal experience that he had (which was little at that point in Samilen's life). 

The keeper's legs widen in an almost instinctual response and his ass presses back eagerly against the rough pressure of X'rhun's fingers but toying against the rim of his entrance.

"I...hardly mind," he breathes out through parted lips, arms seeking to wrap around the other's neck to anchor himself closer. "I don't see how I could mind at all, actually, it's--it's a bit of a turn-on, actually."

X'rhun hums, giving him a small kiss on the lips before he dares to press his finger into him, thrusting it in and out a handful of times before he sets a steady rhythm.  He presses a hand into the soft white that is Samilen's hair, letting it lace through the tresses there, undoing his so tightly kept braid. He would be wrecked and beautiful after this, and X'rhun would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to see it. 

"Good," He says against his lips, rutting his cock forward against the other Miqo'te's with a low growl.

So much happens in but a scant few breaths of time, though Samilen takes it all with a blooming willingness in his chest, a rapturous twist of heat in his stomach as the desperate frayed edges of his fantasies become nothing short of real and material. He's caught between the seeker's finger slipping deep within him, rubbing against his inner walls in careful encouragement to loosen him up, and the hot pressure of a stiff cock rutting against his own. 

Samilen would have been a liar to say he wasn't excited by the notion of all of it happening, by even the soft peck of X'rhun's lips intimately against his own for but a flicker of a moment.

But it's the growl that gets him the most, the low noise seeming to make something just  _ click _ in the keeper's mind, a switch left dormant in his brain that's finally been toyed with enough to life--and of all the noises that slip from his lips, he can't help but  _ mewl _ .

"Careful," The older man says, even as his cock stirs to leadened hardness, even as he presses another finger alongside the first one, scissoring them in an attempt to steadily get Samilen ready for his girth and length. The mewl is so soft, so sweet, a man who has defeated beasts X'rhun wouldn't dare to have nightmares about is mere putty in his hands. 

He presses his lips to an ear, reveling in the softness of his fur, "You wouldn't want someone to hear? Would you?" He asks, his voice a purr as he ruts his hips again, almost drowning in how good it feels.

Samilen's ears flick gently against X'rhun's lips, the words doing more to stoke the flames in his belly than put them out. What if someone  _ did _ see them? Would they do anything? Would they sit there and watch? Samilen can't seem to find the shame to twist the thought out of his mind, a throbbing in his cock from the mere possibility that they could be caught--no, that Samilen himself could be caught. The esteemed warrior of light with his pants around his ankles, getting railed hard just outside a tavern like some desperate whore.

"Fuck," the man all but squeaks, ducking his head beneath X'rhun's chin, trying to figure out whether he wanted to press his hips forward or back as he's stretched open on thick, experienced digits.

Purring comfortingly, X’rhun presses his fingers through Samilen's twisting white locks once more as he adds a third finger. 

He's careful now, spreading them to stretch Samilen open more as he readies him for the real thing now. He hears the wood squeak beneath someone's feet as they leave the bar. They either don't notice or don't care what they're doing as they walk past without incident. Good. He certainly didn't want them interrupted. 

His cock was fire between his legs and he knew that only Samilen could sate this burning within him.

May the gods strike him down where he stand, Samilen absolutely  _ felt _ a throb in his cock at the squeak of the wood hardly several yalms away from them. It's almost that he could feel the gaze of the anonymous bar-goer, though it could have easily been a trick of his own addled mind in the heat of the moment--regardless it  _ did _ things to him, twisted and gnawed at the pit of his stomach just as he felt a third finger slide past the tight ring of muscle. 

" _ X'rhun _ ," Samilen half-mewls, the noise muffled somewhat in the fabric of the man's jacket. Three digits already feel so thick, the calloused tips rubbing expertly against walls of his ass that he could go insane with the rising pleasure--would his cock even fit? Despite the worry, Samilen couldn't stop the eagerness in his voice as he all but pleaded,

"More, please--need you now--"

All X’rhun can do is nod. He wasn't about torture the man. Gently he turns him around, having Samilen hang onto the wooden pole that lifted the roof over them. His hands are firm on hips as he presses the head of his thick cock to the other man's entrance. 

He teases it there, shivering at the pleasure that spikes up his spine and down into the pit of his stomach. He wants nothing more than to plunge into him and take him against the railing of the patio, but he waits instead, slowly getting him used to the idea of even his cock entering him.

Samilen grips the pole, his forehead pressed to the wood and his nails digging in deep, clinging to something to give him anchor as his muscles  twitch and ache for the thick heat pressing against him. He almost expects X'rhun to thrust without hesitation, if only for the heat of the moment and the rushed nature of the encounter itself. No, Samilen certainly doesn't expect for the older man to wait, to pause long enough that Samilen can get his thoughts in order--long enough that it's purposed and it means something deep in the keeper's chest.

Samilen's ears pin back as he can't find the words to plead--only actions, his ass pressing back against X'rhuns thick cock to encourage the man forward and to slip inside of his needing body.

The seeker huffs, mostly because his last, single thread of control snaps, and he presses into Samilen with a groan. 

At first, he takes it as slowly as he can, pressing into the smaller body before him inch by inch. X'rhun's fingers grip at his hips, squeezing there as he tries not to just take the man before him. Samilen was a good soul, a good Red Mage, he shouldn't have to put up with someone like X'rhun pounding him like a simple whore. 

Eventually he allows himself to slot inside the younger man, biting his lip to keep back a cuss that stirs at the back of his throat. Oh, it'd been too long and yet just long enough.

Samilen is certainly no virgin, though there are too many years between his last encounter with a man and the breathless moment of now. He scarcely recalls what it was like to be beneath another person, to feel their hands on his hips and their body against his. 

He remembers fooling around in the shadows of the soldiers' quarters of the Twin Adders, of curious kisses and desperate hands, of movements yet experienced and the shape of a cock spreading him open while he could only keep his lips sealed of noises that threatened to fall out.

But this, oh,  _ this _ is something different; a combination of many years untouched and partners lacking as much experience (or  _ girth _ ) as the miqo'te behind Samilen right now. His body opens up to the intrusion, slicked with oil and finger-fucked to a looseness that leaves him gaping soundlessly against the wooden pole--Samilen felt sorry for anyone who may look upon the marks he's leaving with his claws and wonder what caused them.

" _ Fuck _ ," the keeper whispers, the sound breaking up in his throat and only barely loud enough to hear. "Fuckfuckfuckyou'resobig-"

His tail lashes angrily against X'rhuns stomach as every inch of is sheathed within his wanting body, unable to find purchase or rest even when the older man's cock is pressed to the root inside of that tight, hot grip.

He moves forwards, his lips to Samilen's ear. 

"Do you like that?" He asks, one hand slipping to his shoulder, the other firm on his hip. This would not be a gentle and languid love making, no. It would be a rough, quick fuck against a wooden post outside some dive bar. If Samilen wanted to make noise, then he could, it wasn't like he was coming back here any time soon. He uses his hands to pull him firmly onto his cock, letting his head rest against the soft, mussed white hair that carded over the other Miqo'te's shoulder. 

As soon as he is snug around him he bucks forwards again, leveraging himself against him as he growls low in his chest. He can feel the ridges of his cock catching against Samilen's rim, and it causes him to moan, shutting his eyes with the pleasure.

" _ Yessss~ _ " is the best answer that Samilen can give in the moment, his brain addled with a pleasure unfamiliar enough that most of his brain is occupied with simply letting it wash over him. He's a fool to admit it out loud, but he's also a fool who's being fucked up against the outside of a tavern and he's already crossed that bridge and burned it to ashes behind him. Consequences are little more than a shadow in the back of Samilen's mind.

He squeezes around X'rhun's cock, as if to remind himself of the thick girth settled so deep within his body, if only to keep him inside for but one thin breath longer than normal between each hard, rough thrust. All Samilen can do is press his ass back, feeling the other's nails digging so painfully good into his skin that the marks will take days to fade away.

A few small moans escape the seeker’s lips, sounding far too close to the mewl that spilled from Samilen’s lips just a few moments before. The pleasure is already radiating down to his core, hard to control and harder still to hold restraint. 

The hand on Samilen's hip splays downwards, slowly wrapping his calloused fingers around his cock and beginning to pump in tempo with the slow, hard thrusts of his hips. He grunts with the effort, pressing his lover firmly against the pole before him. The tavern behind them is loud and rowdy now, as it is deep into the night and people with nowhere to go are intent on staying in the warm light of the bar for as long as possible. 

This probably isn't the first time someone has had a triste just outside the glow of the lanterns, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

It doesn't take long until Samilen is pressed near-flat against the wooden pole, his hands scrabbling for purchase until his claws dig deeper into the wooden surface. The only thing not pressed forward is his hips, instead caught between the grip of X'rhun's hand and his cock sliding deeper within him with every hard thrust forward. There's little to muffle the keepers noises than his lips, bitten between his teeth and doing next to nothing to hide each gasp and low whimper that spills every time the head of X'rhun's cock nudges up against a particular spot inside of Samilen.

_ So deep _ , Samilen thinks, hardly coherent enough to speak. The seeker's cock is so deep inside him, as if Samilen was made purely to compliment the shape that leaves him shaking, and there's no high greater than being purely at the mercy of cock-desperate lust. 

One of his hands finally move from the pole and down to overlap X'rhun's own, not so much to guide the older miqo'te than simply to feel the tautness of muscles and dexterity of calloused fingers as they slide up and down the shaft of his throbbing prick, urging him ever closer to climax.

X’rhun grunts with each thrust, pressing as deep as he can now. X'rhun's lips nip at Samilen's ear, biting gently at the soft white fur. 

"C'mon," He says, losing his usual cadence, all his high speech and pretty words. "I now you're close. I can feel it. Tell me baby..." 

He purrs, fisting his cock now. The man beneath him his tight and hot against his cock. There is laughter and life behind them in the tavern but the night air is so much hotter now, so much brighter than any bar could be. He plunges himself in Samilen, quick snaps of his hips threatening to send him over the edge.

_ Baby. _

In all the span of a second, no, but a breath, Samilen feels his entire world snap like twigs underfoot. He feels his body shake against his will, his ears flick uselessly against the nip of X'rhun's teeth, feels his mind turns to a blankness as rapturous white-hot euphoria fills his being. If sweet words are like syrup, Samilen feels sticky and sweet with how the other man's whispers fall upon him, drawing him over the edge and into a haze of babbling words of pleasure he cares not to hide or muffle.

" _ Fuck yes, y-essss- _ " Samilen's mewl is a strained whimper, fought only by the sound of his claws dragging down the gnarled wooden pole he's pressed against. " _ YespleaseX'rhunfuckdaddyohblessthetwelve _ -"

He feels himself spill over the seeker's fingers, sticky and hot and making a mess at his feet, but he's hardly in the mind to care when everything in the world around him feels just  _ perfect _ .

The seeker gasps, something just as much unlike him as taking a not-quite-student and fucking them just outside the light of a bustling tavern. 

Samilen's words had been a mess, yes, but he was coherent enough to make out quite a few things that he liked. Those thoughts, however, would have to be kept for later as he mind goes stark white. Every memory seems to be erased by the pleasure he feels as he plunges into Samilen one last time, cumming inside his tight hole as he lets out a long groan. 

He keeps the man tight against him as he rides out his orgasm, and even he can feel his thick seed threatening to fill the other Miqo'te to the brim. He hisses his pleasure, the hand on Samilen's shoulder squeezing hard enough to leave bruises as the blinding white euphoria threatens to overtake his entire being. Finally, it passes, and he is left panting behind him, wallowing in the afterglow.

The pleasure of orgasm works it's last waves down through their forms, leaving Samilen to shiver when a sudden breeze picks up and licks icily against his skin, sweat accumulated on his brow and the nape of his neck. 

He feels exhausted and dirty, legs quaking and body suddenly falling into the gaping emptiness that had long been dug in the haze of sex and need. The afterglow itself is pleasant, numbing the edges of his thoughts enough that he can at least enjoy the few moments of silent intimacy, the warmth and pressure of X'rhun's cock still sitting inside of him.

Samilen lets out a soft groan as he shifts his hips, the movement bringing to mind how full and wet he feels inside and how very, very spent he is; streaks of white paint over X'rhun and his own knuckles and across the wooden floor below.

But most of all, the keeper is left silent, just breathing in the cold desert air, unsure of what, if anything, he can say to break the warm silence between the two of them. He at least squeezes X'rhun's hand in his, cock going soft as even the last tendrils of afterglow too have to fade away.

X'rhun lets himself stay put, if only for a moment. 

The heat around his cock feels good compared to the cool night air that now blows across the desert. He shivers both from stimulation and from the breeze that cools his already sweaty skin. After another breath his pulls out and away from Samilen, inspecting his cum coated hand. 

Ah, it seemed that his partner had not partaken in this in quite a while, if the potency of the liquid on his hand is anything to go by. He hums, pulling his pants up and tucking himself away, before he looks to Samilen. 

"Let's get you cleaned up," He says, gently pulling him from the railing to help tuck him away and make him more presentable.

Samilen helps as best he can, though his brain feels about as sluggish as the thick maple syrup that rolls down the tree trunks of the Black Shroud. It's not perfect, but the two of them together manage to get his clothes back on in a way that doesn't make him look as fucked as he feels, though every little shift of Samilen's hips leave a rolling wetness down his inner thighs which-oh gods--he will have to take care of the moment he's in an inn room or somewhere far more private. It's uncomfortable, but it does keep a flush painted dark over his cheeks, barely able to glance up at the seeker as he keeps the younger tugged close.

Samilen's tail thrashes softly behind him, indication only of his twisting thoughts as reality starts to burn through the pleasure; shame is a quick, vile beast after all. 

"You don't-," Samilen starts, unsure what to do with his own hands. "-you don't have to."

"I don't. But I am." He says with a shake of his head, tutting as he tries to set Samilen right. He presses a hand through Samilen's hair, letting it all loose to slide over his shoulders. Unfortunately he'd never been very good at braiding, so Samilen would have to make do. 

He helps the other man steady himself, looking the other man over once before nodding to himself. He looked like he might be slightly drunk, which in a way he was. He looks down at his hand, still coated in cum. 

_ Well, there was only one way to get rid of that. _

His tongue darts out, licking at the fluid, strangely salty sweet, until it was all gone. Good as new. He then bends quickly, retrieving his gloves and slipping them on. He looks to Samilen, nodding his head towards the bar, 

"Let me buy you a drink, it would seem you need it."

Samilen's eyes are drawn to the smoothness of X'rhun's motions, the casual tone of his voice for an encounter he himself would not know how to handle so well. For the fact that the two of them just fucked in practically public view like two desperate teenagers just on the cusp of their adulthood, the seeker acts as if they merely finished the conversation that X'rhun had brought them out to partake in. 

Samilen reaches a hand up to his crudely-rebraided hair, feeling touched in the fact that the older man gave even an attempt, and surely it would have to do until he could find a mirror. Just as golden eyes looked back for him to thank the other, Samilen's gaze froze as he saw the last flick of X'rhun's tongue over his cum-splattered knuckles, leaving him at a loss for words for several long, heated moments.

"A drink would be nice," he finally found the words to say, hoping he sounded half as composed. "After uh, something like that. Yes. A drink."

X'rhun gives another nod, moving to place a hand on the small of Samilen's back as he guides him back into the din of the tavern. The patrons don't seem to notice, or possibly don't seem to care about their previous actions. He leads them both to the bar regardless and taps the counter twice, letting the  barkeep know that he wants is usual, but twice. 

"Do you feel any better?" He asks, leaning to casually against the bar as if he hadn't been balls deep in the man beside him moments prior. He almost felt bad for whomever got the soul stone next. They were most certainly receiving  _ that _ little tidbit of experience and it would be hard for either of them to explain exactly why.

Samilen took a seat beside X'rhun, mouth open to say something to the barkeep before the other's tapping distracted him--ah, he forgot how often the seeker frequented the bar, enough to have such a short-form gesture. It was on a second thought that the younger man figured it best that he avoided trying to hold conversation elsewhere anyway, considering how little he trusted the sound of his own voice.

"Physically better," the keeper says at last, fingertips tapping lightly on the surface of the bar, his ears falling in momentary caution. "I'm not so certain about emotionally. I mean--why--" His brows knit together as he turns his golden eyes to meet icy blue, face facing X'rhun well enough to see the dark color painted across his cheeks. "Why did you do that? I mean, I'm not--well, complaining at all I'm just--confused. About it."

X'rhun shrugs.

"Is it not another part of your training? To know how your body reacts and how to take care of it?" 

He watches as the two ales slid down the slick surface of the bar. Whether it was because of the finish of the wood, or all the spilled drinks, he couldn't tell. 

He grabs one, holding it aloft for Samilen to take. "It's just another way of finding balance. And balance is what you need, warrior of light." He smiles to himself. "A balance between self care and working hard. A balance between pain and pleasure. Red magic is much the same."

Samilen feels his brows knit, tension leaking into his expression as he weighs the words--perhaps it's simply his inexperience that colors his perception on the act the two of them had committed, but he is confused how the other man can act so casual about the whole situation. 

Still, perhaps it's for the best that he does as the younger of the two has little idea what to say about it, and forgetting the encounter doesn't seem to be much a viable option at this point when he is still shifting in his seat, vaguely aware of wetness leaking from between his thighs that he'll surely have to deal with soon after leaving the tavern.

Samilen takes the offered drink in-hand and brings it gingerly to his lips, sipping once at the bitter liquid before collecting his thoughts up with a breath. If X'rhun can act casually about it, why can't he? Is it no different a challenge than besting primals, after all? Is it no more intimate than the visions he received from Hydaelyn so many times before, just....a little more...intense? Surely he can think of it that way, though it doesn't at all help that the seeker's smile almost makes Samilen's heart flutter just a little bit in his chest.

"If I didn't know any better I'd call this an elaborate ruse bestowed as a cruel joke of fate to press me harder into the studies," Samilen finally says, feeling his body soften with the taste of alcohol on his tongue. "I don't think I've had anyone much consider it that way--they're quicker to worry for my skill in battle than if I'm satisfying physical needs."

"I assume you're speaking of your friends, The Scions?" X’rhun asks, leaning casually against the bar. "But your physical needs are just as important." He hums, looking into his cup to think. "It's as if ... it's as if you have too much white magic in your system. Every once in a while you need to be selfish, to be greedy, if only for a moment." He sends him a small smile, "That way you can be a functioning person." He takes a long drink, the ale is bitter in his mouth but it feels cool as it runs down his gullet.

"I only wish things worked as simply as how you explain red magic," Samilen muses, nursing at his drink for a moment, as if to let the bitter liquid numb away the reminder nipping at his mind. "The Warrior of Light can't afford t'be selfish, and I think that's how they all see me--Not Samilen Jawantal, not a keeper from Limsa Lominsa, just...the Warrior of Light. Infallible, indomitable, incapable of fault or fear."

The bloom of heat in his belly is nice, though it's not a feeling Samilen often allows himself--the warrior can hardly be caught drunk, lest someone's life be on the line and he the only one to save it.

X'rhun's eyes turn sad, he puts a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Take the rest of the night off. Tomorrow too. No warrior of light business for you. Be yourself, if only for a few days." He gives him a small smile. "There is time for selfishness, even if you are a champion of the just. Take those few moments to yourself and come back to me. We'll begin your training then." He leans against the bar once more. "Though I would suggest rest before anything else, our exercises seem to have tired you out."

Though his words bring warmth to Samilen's chest, but they also spark a thread of concern--no, sadness. The prospect of taking time for himself is indeed a nice thing, something he's not had time to do for many moons since taking on the mantle as the Warrior of Light. Though Samilen misses spending time in the Black Shroud and collecting various flora and making money on the occasional task from Fufucha, he...would be a liar to say that his adventures with the Scions did not spark a need that he had long since ignored.

Companionship.

He couldn't simply return and act as if life was the same as before--Samilen fears returning to Gridania as but a botanist or carpenter, if only because people see him as something more, because he can't take the same joy in solace when his body craves for the touch and attention of another person. It's been a curse that he's found bittersweet relief from when his constant missions leave him too busy to think about it.

"...I can...try to do that," he finally says, a cold stone in the pit of his stomach as he forces a smile to his face. "It will be interesting to take up the axe instead of the bow or sword, I hope my skills haven't faded."

X'rhun smiles, nodding, "Of course, my friend. Take as much time as you need and then return to me. We will begin learning new skills when you've found your balance again." He says, taking another long sip of ale. "But for now I dare say you may need to see an inn room. You look as if you are falling down tired and I would not keep you from the sleep you seem to so desperately need." He himself probably needed it too. Drinking the night away was something he'd only done in his younger years and those were long behind him. Not to mention, sex did tend to take a lot out of a man.

Samilen hums, sipping at the drink in his hands until it is empty and his mind is full of thoughts he would very much not like to ponder on. 

"I suppose I'll take my leave then, wouldn't do for someone to find the Warrior of Light passed out at a tavern in the middle of Thanalan." He hesitates for a moment then, after deciding that he'll have to move at some point, makes his leave from the bar itself. He passes X'rhun with a soft smile on his lips, though it's born of bittersweet emotions. "Keep an eye out for me if you happen to pass through the Black Shroud in the next several suns."

It's the closest thing he can bring himself to say that begs for companionship, if only for politeness' sake than anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formatting RPs is a tedious process, and boy did I not realize how different a style it is from standard prose @w@ 
> 
> Either way, I hope this is worth the eon of waiting since the last bit, and it's as thirsty as ever!

X'rhun does not like aetherytes. They give him a sense of vertigo and make his stomach do flips. But he had been in a rush and the rush had taken him all the way to Gridania. Samilen had given him a call, just an hour before. The poor boy. Had something happened? His voice had been tense, sad and X'rhun begins to consider if Samilen was simply unused to be relaxed, taking it easy, if only for a day. Gridania is a beautiful city, but he has not been here in years. He looks around, trying to find the grey skin and white hair that marked Samilen's presence.

All things considered, Samilen is grateful that his voice did not break in the call. What had started as a peaceful day had quickly turned cold, his hands on the handle of an axe feeling so unfamiliar as though they were not his own, as if the trees around him that he knew so well were alien to him--an activity he had once found to be his source of peace had quickly reared its head to reveal nothing but emptiness and agony. 

He could barely bring himself into the Black Shroud, could hardly pull his axe into the air--only for it to come down weakly upon the trunk of a tree, his eyes welling with tears that he could scarcely understand the source of.

He couldn't just pretend that things were normal.

The silent air that was once peaceful now leaves him anxious, the lack of people around him bring forth the fear of an enemy hiding in the shadows, the loneliness that he had once found familiar is now cold and frightening. The emotions hit Samilen like a wave, worse than even when he had faced Leviathan itself, and left it hard to breathe; he felt like he was dying, scrambling for any sense of self or meaning when the whole world felt like it was crashing down around him.

So he called X'rhun. The first person that had sprung to Samilen’s mind who would help him, be  _ there _ for him. X’rhun Tia. 

He summoned the man with all the stability he could force into his voice, constantly holding back a sob in the back of his throat in how his mind, body and spirit yearned nothing short of the man; even as he stood without the gear of a red mage on his body, Samilen could feel the stone burning against his chest, as if right next to his heart. Everything in his very soul wanted nothing more than to see the seeker, to hear his voice and feel his warmth if only to remind Samilen that he wasn't alone.

And so he sat next to the aetheryte like some sullen child waiting for their parent, his eyes still burning with the tears he'd long wiped away. His heart still hammered and his breathing felt too quick, but he had enough experience in muffling his emotions around people in his younger years that he could at least look slightly composed.

X'rhun is able to find him quickly enough but he does not like what he sees. He is disheveled as if a storm had blown him to the side. He moves to Samilen, X'rhun is on his knees before him eyes worried and hands on his shoulder. 

"Samilen! Samilen look at me- what happened? Did someone hurt you?" 

Had his actions in the tavern brought him to this state? Had something happened in Gridania? A death? The Seeker feels panic and worry bubble up in his chest, trying to get answers from the man. The balance he had so wanted Samilen to find was completely gone from him, in its place was this deep sadness that even X'rhun could feel. What had happened? And when?

It's almost as if Samilen feels the older seeker's presence in the aetheryte square before he finally touches down in physical manifestation. It's not a secret that teleporting takes effort and focus, drains even a man with the constitution of a mountain--and still, the moment that X'rhun is physically there, his eyes seek out and turn to Samilen almost instantaneously. The keeper thinks that he should feel some sort of comfort in that, the fact that X'rhun seeks him out as if a dear friend--are they friends, can he call them that yet?

"Nobody hurt me," Samilen says quickly, his voice too soft and his hands twitching nervously in his lap, aching for something to touch, to feel, and eventually he relents enough that one of them reaches up to start pulling through his own loose hair. "I just--I tried to do what you advised, I tried to relax and be alone and I just--I couldn't, I couldn't do it X'rhun I just-" He feels his breathing quicken, his heart hammering against his ribs.

X'rhun looks around. There were too many people here. Samilen couldn't express himself among these other adventurers so he stands him up, tugging him away from the crowd and into some deserted back alley. 

As soon as he is sure they are out of sight of any prying eyes he places his hands on Samilen's shoulders, focusing on him. 

"Tell me exactly what happened." 

No one had hurt him, Samilen had said, and yet he stood before X’rhun hurt and confused all the same, eyes wet and face hot with an expression the elder Miqo’te could so easily see as shame and misery.

Samilen continues to tug at his hair with one, then both of his hands, combing them through soft silvery locks until they almost start to pull in what might seem painful--the pain anchors the Keeper somewhat, pain always seems to pull the thoughts down when they threaten to overwhelm him to the edge of sanity, but he hasn't been in any battles that left injury or bruises or scratches upon his body in several days and he can't keep control of his hands and just--

"I tried doing what I used to do," he whispers, fearing that his voice is too soft for X'rhun to understand. "Before the Scions I was just--I was a botanist and carpenter. I....kept to myself. Alone. I tried doing that again and I..." 

He tugs harder at his hair, unsure if it's the pain of yanking at it or the refresh of emotions that sift through his heart that brings the tears welling in his vision.

"I can't be alone again. It's--it's not the same. Nothing is the same--it's all wrong."

X’rhun’s voice is gentle as he murmurs to him, "It's alright Samilen. I'm here now. You don't have to be alone." He murmurs, taking his hands into his if only so he would stop hurting himself. "You do not want to be alone? Then you won't. I will stay here as long as I am able." He squeezes his hands gently, "I will help you find balance. Find peace within yourself. And then you can learn more and make your own oaths to keep. But you must first make an oath to yourself."

Samilen grips the older man's hands hard, as if trying to will out all the pain simmering in his chest through the pressure alone. Tears continue to well in his vision until they begin to fall, rolling down his cheeks and without a free hand to wipe them away--Samilen feared to remove his hands from X'rhuns at that point, they were shaking, fidgeting, beyond what he was used to when stress got the better of him and he fell back into mute handspeak.

"There's no peace in me," The keeper whispers, voice tense and distraught, as if he is just now realizing the fact. "There hasn't been any for years, not since-" His words choke up as the memories flood him--the Calamity, the suffering, the pain and loss of so many he held dear. The anxiety of being called a warrior, the warrior of light, forced into a role when all he wanted to do was curl up in the woods and die so the nightmares would stop. "-I think I'm broken."

"You are not broken," X’rhun says, worrying over the man and pulling him forwards, if only slightly. "You are not broken, I promise that to you. You are simply hurt. You are hurting and you have been for a long time--all you need is to heal." 

X’rhun can feel the worry tugging at his mind. What could he do for Samilen? What could be done?  He fixes the other man with a stalwart gaze. "I'll help you. This I swear. This is my oath."

Samilen takes the words to heart as best he can in his state, hands shaking in X'rhun's grip. It's hard to think and harder still to speak, so he offers but a nod in reply--there's little trust that the words wouldn't fail him in the moment, as emotions continue to rise and twist in the center of his stomach. 

He stays like that for several moments, his eyes looking down and cheeks still wet with tears, trying to come up with words that encapsulate what he's feeling: he just doesn't want to let X'rhun go.

In the end, words don't come. Instead it's action, a spur of the moment impulsiveness that makes Samilen tear his hands from the others grip and throw himself forward, wrapping his arms instead around the seeker's neck and pressing his face into the others chest.

"I'm sorry," the muffled words sound heavy with guilt. "I need you."

X'rhun feels his heart twist in kind. Had he known... Had he known that Samilen was in so much pain we would have never sent him off alone. He was his mentor, and he had left his student to suffer on his own. Never again. 

"There is no guilt in this," He says, petting down his back before wrapping him in his own hug, "There is only the understanding that we must heal these wounds. No matter how deep." 

X'rhun had wounds of his own, wounds that he would like healed. But Samilen's were not the kind that could be fixed with retribution for those lost. No. It could only be fixed gently. Slowly. And that's what he would do.

For someone who knows next-to-nothing about the ills that plague Samilen's mind, X'rhun is kind and warm in ways the keeper never expected to feel from someone, much less someone he scarcely knows for longer than a few moons. It's...a nice feeling, to rely on someone else instead of being the one relied upon constantly. There's a kinship in it, in feeling the older miqo'te's hands on Samilen's back, arms tight and comforting in the way only physical pressure can offer.

"I don't want to be alone anymore," Samilen says, speaking as much to the present moment as to his life in general regard--the one thing he thought he loved most, solitude, is but his abusive lover. "I can't be alone anymore. It....scares me." He knows no other words to describe the feelings that clutch his heart, and he hopes desperately that X'rhun understands. "Stay...with me? Or I'll go back to Thanalan with you--we can start training again, anything but this, I'm so sorry."

The seeker blinks down at Samilen, drawing away from him enough to stare down at the other man. "We will go where you wish. For now, we needn't worry, we must simply take care of your most basic needs, such as food and a bath?" He asks, giving him a small smile. "Not to say that you smell, but I believe that one would help clear your senses. And am I correct in guessing that you have not eaten as you should?" If he was hungry and dehydrated then that was probably affecting his current mood, exacerbating already-problematic levels of stress.

For a moment Samilen merely stared at the other man, words leaving him as he figured if it was more appropriate to shake or nod his head. When he seemed to come up with no proper answer, the younger man merely huffed and pressed his face back into X'rhun's chest, thoughts finally settling into something that vaguely feels like calm--calmer than before, at least. Calm enough to realize that he should feel embarrassed and ashamed, but not calm enough that it stops him from enjoying the warmth of another body.

"Hungry," Samilen mutters into the softness of the seeker's red jacket. "And thirsty."

X'rhun nods, combing a hand through his hair. "We'll get you to the inn." He says, "I'll get you food. You'll eat. You'll bathe. Then you'll rest." He murmurs. He wraps an arm around his waist, beginning to slowly lead Samilen towards the inn. He would buy a room and stay with him tonight. 

Gods, if he'd have known. He would never have sent him here. Alone. Trapped. Gods damn him for not  _ thinking _ beyond surface lust and his own problems, when Samilen had more than his own share and still did his best to learn red magic ontop of it.

There's neither argument nor resistance from Samilen as he merely allows X'rhun to guide him forward, one step after another. The of them gather only a handful of stares, though it could have been more due to the seeker's bright attire than anything else--and luckily, there was nobody that Samilen was at all familiar with, just anonymous faces and eyes of people he'd never see again.

He didn't say anything at all until they entered the adventurer's guild, X'rhun gently in-step with Samilen as the two made their way to the inn counter. The younger man kept his eyes down through the ensuing conversation, if only so he could focus instead on the warmth of X'rhun's body and the pressure of his arm wrapped tight around his waist.

The inn room is a simple procurement and X'rhun is quick to escort the both of them to it. It is better than some of the back alley beds he has laid himself in. He helps the younger miqo'te into the bed, wrapping him with blankets. Food is also quick to arrive, served by a staff member who barely gets a word out before he is shutting the door in her face. It’s not that the seeker  _ means _ to be rude, but more that his thoughts are almost obsessively upon the well-being of the other man in the room with him.

Samilen.

Piled on the plate is a hearty meal for even a Roe, and with it a stout glass of sweet juice that he hopes the younger Miqo’te will like. X’rhun moves to him, sitting the goods down beside him before he himself takes a seat on the edge of the bed. 

"How long has it been since you took a meal?"

Distantly, Samilen is aware of the fact that he hadn't been treated like this in a long time--though he could recall being tucked into bed by his mothers and father, those memories were many years old and hazy within the keeper's mind. The warmth of the blanket wrapped around his shoulders is a comfort, one that he selfishly enjoys while X'rhun steps around the room doing things that Samilen should have been capable of doing himself.

Should have, but yet he  _ isn’t. _

"I don't know," the man finally answers, honest as he thinks back to the last time he had eaten a full meal and not merely subsisted on what he could hold in one hand and eat. "A few days? I've eaten rations since, it's just been...." he pauses and takes a breath, the smell of a warm, fresh-cooked meal lingering on his nose. "...busy."

He eyes the plate with some manner of interest, debating if it was worth it to leave the comfort of the blanket even if it meant to eat--it was comfortable and plush, a stark difference from the thin layers of cloth he typically was used to having with him in missions outside the city.

X'rhun's brow creases in worry but he nods. That wasn't good. But at least Samilen still had some interest in eating, if his reaction was anything to go by. He was worried what 'busy' meant. Was busy having a mental break down? Or was busy doing more work for the Scions? He didn't know for sure and that was probably a bad sign. X'rhun takes up the plate, sitting it on his own lap as he picks up the fork, shoving it into a sliced popoto and bringing the still steaming root to Samilen's mouth. "Don't worry," He says, voice gentle, "I'll help you eat."

Samilen lets out a sigh as he pulls the blanket tighter around himself. He's several seconds from relinquishing the warmth in favor of filling his stomach, but X'rhun seems to beat him to it--there's a piece of popoto hovering a few ilms from his lips and, for a moment, Samilen's golden eyes flick from the food to the face of the man holding it for him. 

He's not quite sure how to feel about it. Though Samilen certainly feels no disgust or anger welling in his stomach at the notion of being so intimately cared for--like a child--a blooming of heat still rolls across his cheeks. He silently looks on at the food for a few moments longer before, slowly, he parts his lips and takes the food into his mouth, chewing slowly and savoring the warmth against his tongue.

Watching Samilen eat eases nerves more than X'rhun would like to admit. Samilen is at least still able to eat and enjoy food. He had not refused it. So the seeker picks up another morsel with the fork, offering it to him as soon as he's swallowed down the last bite. 

Slowly his chest is unbinding from the worry. Good food, a bath, and some rest would do Samilen well, and then perhaps they could speak about how he felt and how they could find his balance again. Having a negative mental state would not help him learn Red Magic, would not help him save the world like it seemed he was destined to do.

There's a lot of things that Samilen doesn't quite understand in the moment; most of all, he hardly understands why X'rhun seems to care as much as he does, why he's gone to such lengths to make sure that Samilen is comfortable and fed--the notion seems reserved but for best friends and lovers, parents and family, so he can't understand why the older miqo’te would take so much time from his own life to sit there and fork-feed someone who should have been more than capable of feeding himself.

Still, Samilen doesn't complain. 

Though he knows that he should, though he knows he should feel ashamed, he continues to eat every bite offered to him with eyes shy and looking only at the offered food than at the other's face. He knows the feeling would just get worse if he did look anyway.

It doesn't take too long before most of the plate of food is empty and Samilen, for once in weeks, feeling pleasantly full. It had grown to be a treat in recent weeks to have the time, money and attention needed to enjoy an actual meal.

"...Thank you," he says, finally unwinding the blanket around himself--now that he could think, he could also begin to feel awkward, nearly disgusted at himself, so realize that he shouldn't keep X'rhun doing things as if he needed to. "You don't have to stay here--I mean, doing this, it's....I should be able to take care of the other things myself."

"It's not a question of if you should do it, it's a question of if you need help," X'rhun says, putting a steadying hand on Samilen's shoulder. "You can ask for help." 

He can feel the concern starting to bristle again within his chest. The other man was going to work himself to the bone if he didn't take a break. No. X'rhun would not let that happen. He would take care of Samilen until he could care for himself once more and then they could work together to make Eorzea a better place once more.

"I'm a grown man," Samilen says, though he hates how his voice breaks as he says it, as if the universe itself has conspired to shame him for some ill he's committed. "I should be ashamed of needing help for basic stuff like this, you shouldn't have to feel obligated to help me."

His body shakes for a moment, though it's the pressure of X'rhun's hand that quells anything worse, thoughts and emotions muted somehow in the other man's presence. Distantly, he can feel the warmth of something familiar against his brain--something small and crystalline, something that burns through the pouch around his hips even though he's not currently using it.

Despite himself, Samilen feels a bond between he and X'rhun, a pulsing sense of closeness that has found a way to wind around his soul, unyielding--he's not even wearing the soulgem and yet it's presence, it's influence is there, forming words that he otherwise couldn't say.

"I...I've....never had anyone to help me. I don't know how to ask."

"I don't feel an obligation, I want to help, Samilen." X'rhun murmurs, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "I will do anything to make you feel better. All you simply need to do is say the word." Though he knew it wouldn't be as simple as that. Samilen didn't know how to ask and thus he didn't know what he needed. X'rhun would have to make the choice for him, if only for now. "But at the moment I believe you should bathe and then rest, it might do you some good." 

He makes a gentle motion towards the door that led to the bath that was just off the suite they currently resided in.

Samilen huffed, more out of lingering embarrassment than any actual sort of distress or annoyance. For all that he sputtered about in his own self-pity, the keeper was more than aware that there was no option other than to simply listen to X'rhun's advice, if only so that he could face the next morning with some amount of his personal dignity still intact and, perhaps, the hope that the older seeker could look at him the same way. 

For all of the gentleness in his words, Samilen knew that there had to be some measure of doubt or aggravation, for what kind of man would have to rely so assuredly upon another, much less a man who had known him for just a handful of moons?

There's no reason for X'rhun to feel the need to help as he does, but Samilen is aware enough that he is grateful for it all the same--the only blessing he can recognize in his hazy self-loathing.

"I won't be long then," he says at last, dropping the blanket on the bed and, after a moment, steps over to the bathroom with the full intention of at least being able to wash himself without aid--he was not that far gone into a spiral of emotional turmoil, at least.

X'rhun nods, watching him leave before he lets out a long sigh. He takes off his hat, placing it on the best as he rubs a hand down his face. He shouldn't be doing this, no, but he was. Samilen was becoming attached and X'rhun didn't know what that meant. Was it the Soul Stone? Was Samilen doing this of his own volition or was it because the stone had told him to? He didn't know. All he knew was that he wanted to help the other miqo'te. He wanted to help him get better and then teach him the magic that he so wanted to learn. To have some sort of lineage after his inevitable demise. 

He is drawn out of his thoughts as suddenly as they come. The link pearl on the nightstand chirps. An incoming message. When had Samilen even taken it off? X'rhun hesitates, only picking it up when it chirps again. It could be important, and since Samilen was preoccupied at the moment he could at least take the message.

No sooner than X'rhun puts the device in his ear he is berated by a voice, obviously young, asking Samilen where he has been and why he hasn't answered his messages. 

The miqo'te isn't even able to interrupt the young man as he goes on a long tangent about responsibility, using words so utterly  _ smugishly  _ needless in their length that X’rhun’s mind almost shuts off completely.

But it does make his jaw tighten, his fingers twist into the bed sheet before he finally snaps, "Listen here you little-!"

"Who in the realm IS this?" Alphinaud says, cutting off X'rhun seemingly without breath from his former tangent. He doesn't recognize the voice on the other end of the linkpearl and he knows for certain that he reached out to Samilen. He's not sure if the words or the fact that it's not the keeper is more alarming, but it suffices to ruffle his feathers regardless. "Whoever you are, this linkpearl doesn't belong to you--where is Samilen? Samilen Jawantal? The Warrior of Light? I demand to know what you've done to him."

X'rhun growls. "I would ask who you are first!" He says, standing from the bed in his anger. "Who are you to be demanding of him such things? And to give him an earful about responsibility! You sound as if you are barely five summers old! Let alone old enough to be telling the Warrior of Light what to do!" His tail fluffs in anger, looking more like a feather duster now. His ears press flat against his head and he growls low in his chest. "I will not be telling you where he is or what he is doing! He needs a break from you and yours and I will be supporting him as such!"

"Mind your tongue, sir, for you are speaking with Alphinaud Leveilleur, a respected ally and sponsor of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn-" the young elezen can feel fire burning at the back of his tongue as he speaks, mind already a whirl for whatever reason that this man picked up Samilen's linkpearl--it only strengthened the wonder and worry he already held for the man, if only to know what things he's gotten up to in the days he's not been at the Rising Stones. "-and I will speak to Samilen Jawantal. It is imperative that he return to the Rising Stones with haste, and while I shan't reveal privy information to one I can only assume is but a hired guard of some sort, his task is important to the protection of Eorzea and her people."

Alphinaud. The name was familiar and it makes his stomach lurch as he is reminded of Alisaie. She had a brother of the same age as her, he remembered as much. So this was the Alphinaud she'd spoken of. 

"Well, young sir," X'rhun says, drawing unnecessarily up to his full height. "If you must know. Samilen is taking a break. From all things. You included. As his teacher I have prescribed him to find his balance and, dare I say it, you are very much an unnecessary part of his life right now. Until he is in a better condition he is under orders not to speak to you." 

Of course it wasn't true. X'rhun had not ordered him to do anything, but he very much disagreed with this boy bossing him about. If Samilen chose to speak with him then X'rhun would surely let him--but not until then and only then.

"Under order not to speak to-" the young voice starts, sounding incredulous and, if anything, with a loss for words at such a response. Alphinaud sputters for a few moments as he tries to catch himself, jumping from one thought to the next that only seems to leave him even more flustered than before. After at least three separate thoughts that all seem to go nowhere, he finally finds himself. "I don't know who you are, but if I hear naught from Samilen soon then the Scions will be sending someone to look for him. I have no idea what sorts of people he's grouped himself with, but it should not come before the needs of Eorzea."

And that makes the seeker see  _ red. _

"His needs may not come before the needs of Eorzea, no, but they do come before yours." With that he takes the pearl off, very nearly throwing it against the wall, pauses in the motion in the final moment to sigh and place it in the bedstand's drawer. 

X'rhun knew he should warn Samilen, tell him that a small child would be banging on his door any moment now. If he knew anything about Alisaie, it was that she could be stubborn. If Alphinaud took after his sister by even an onz then he would be much the same. 

The man approaches the bathroom, gloved fingers tapping against the wood. When he gets no reply he frowns, pushing the door open slowly. He did not want to peek on the man, no, but he was afraid that Samilen might do something to himself in his current mental state.

-

Samilen shuffles into the washroom and sheds his clothes slowly, one layer after another as if they are heavy lead weights. Though he makes little effort to fold them, the keeper knows that he will need to wear them after washing off, so instead he simply tucks them into the corner of the room in a vaguely organized pile on the floor. It's better than nothing at least, leaving Samilen to glance over the tub with a curiosity--it has rather intricate piping, giving the option of a bath or a standing shower, which is more than he could say about some inns farther out from the main cities.

Opting to stand in a spray of hot water, the man begins to turn over the faucets, enjoying slightly the white-noise of water as it begins to splash down into the tub.

He steps into the warm spray of water with a sigh. He can't remember the last time he got to take a shower, much less a warm one, so he counts the blessings in that X'rhun had the mind to take him to stay at the inn, and into a room well-equipped with luxuries he would never spend the extra gil on if it was his own decision alone.

After allowing himself to settle in the hot shower of water, Samilen brings his hands up to wipe at his face, if only to wash away the tears that had long-dried over his cheeks, to soothe the ache of his eyes. Even as his mind tries to empty itself it feels heavy with vision and memory, of the seeker's warm hands and gentle voice, of how he so earnestly offered his attentions to as simple an action as feeding Samilen but a few minutes prior. Samilen thinks on how it felt to be cared for in even the smallest of ways, with actions he should have been able to do himself.

He feels a gentle twist to his belly, a reaction he's long grown used to at the thought of X'rhun, and curses the soul crystal that sits in the pouch among his gear--he hardly knows if the gem is to blame anymore for how such thoughts of the older miqo'te plague Samilen's mind, but it's a convenient object to direct his annoyance at all the same. Ever since that evening at the Coffer and Coffin Samilen has found something different in his bond to X'rhun, something deep and unexplainable--his thoughts to the man are fonder than they should be, edging on something perverse and inappropriate. He was a trainer, a man beyond Samilen's reach and many years older--it is cause enough for shame that he had to come rescue Samilen from his own emotions like a frightened child.

So why does his stomach twist and his heart leap at the mere thought of X'rhun?

The ache only grows harder to ignore as Samilen stands beneath the spray of water, feeling it roll down his skin. An ache for something he's yet able to describe, something distant and fuzzy around the edges--like a memory long forgotten. He wraps his arms around himself as he breathes, letting the motion itself comfort him, the simple act of breathing in a slow, even form. Though it calms his thoughts, Samilen is surprised that it does nothing to soothe the ache in his belly. Every thought of X'rhun only seems to make it worse, make him yearn for the older seeker as if a parched man may want for water.

It's not until he realizes that the ache is much lower than his stomach that it becomes clear what the feeling is that evades Samilen so. Golden eyes glance down to find himself hard, cock throbbing, wanting for an experienced hand, a calloused hand from years of swordplay. It doesn't take a genius to realize whose touch Samilen longs for, and so he merely groans, rubbing his hands over his face as he realizes but the ache he feels in his chest.

Whether it be the fault of the soul crystal or not, Samilen can't ignore any longer the genuine lust and longing he feels for X'rhun. 

So when X'rhun opens the door of the washroom, it's to find Samilen leaning forward with one hand on the wall in front of him and the other pulling feverishly over his cock. Wet, silvery-white hair sticks to his neck and shoulders and flushed face, his jaw dropped and lips parted to let out one soft moan after another. The water has lost most of its heat by this point, gone lukewarm at best, but Samilen can barely conjure up a single thought as he tries to find completion.

"X'rhun..." the keeper murmurs, voice taught and breaking with the name, as if the very sound itself is cause for his aroused distress. "Please...please....f-...uck..."

All he can think of is the touch of the other man. The assuredness of each caress, the power in every grip, everything between the way he once had his arm around Samilen's waist to the tight grip of his hand around the young miqo'te's throbbing dick just outside the Coffer and Coffin. He's stopped trying to understand the emotions that fill his mind, stopped trying to lay logic over them--right now, all his body wants is release, attention, the beautiful chaos of climax--though his own hand pales in comparison to what he craves more.

Sky-blue eyes widen at first. X'rhun hadn't been prepared for such a .. lecherous display. He had only meant to warn him of the boy on the link pearl, but it seems that Samilen had taken his physical needs into his own hands. 

Gods. There’s no denying the sudden twist of arousal in the seeker’s stomach as he watches Samilen stroke himself over with the shape of his name on soft lips.

X'rhun presses forwards, first shedding his coat and then his boots. His shirt is next, then his pants. The gloves are last and they fall to the floor in line with his other clothes. His fingers are quick to over take Samilen's pumping them in a slower rhythm now. He feels dirty, walking in and taking over like this, but his cock has already sprung to life at Samilen's sweet words.

Samilen himself is near sobbing, hand tight around his cock but bringing him little to no relief; if anything, the attempt only makes it worse, the fire coiling around his belly like a vice grip that seems to show no mercy. He's about to let out a thick sob of aggravation when he suddenly feels the pressure and warmth of another body up against him and--

"X'rhun!?" the younger man all but gasps, feeling the seeker replace his grip and stroke him in earnest. The surprise leaves him reeling, gasping as shock and pleasure seem to coil around one another in compliments. "I thought--ahhh--I'm sor--rry."

Samilen's eyes shut tight and he brings a hand to his lips, biting down on his knuckle with the hopes only to muffle out all the sounds, the foolish apology and the foolish words that might otherwise tumble from his lips.

"No apologies," X'rhun says, allowing his hand to pump Samilen. "You needed this? You said you didn't know how to ask, now I am giving. Is this alright?" He would stop, walk away, if it wasn't. But he had an idea that it was welcome. "We'll start with this for now. If it continues we'll move to something more ... intimate." That was a better way of putting it than saying he would fuck Samilen raw in the shower. He would fuck him up against the wall, hot and his breath on his neck. "This is not a burden, simply something we can do together. A project to work on." Maybe that would help to settle Samilen's mind. Something to work on. Yes.

Or maybe it was to settle his own mind more.

Samilen nodded his head fervently but wordlessly, fairly certain the answer was to one specific question but deciding that it applied well to the rest of the man's words. He could hear them, could feel the other's breath against the back of his neck, but it was hard to understand most of it when X'rhun's calloused fingers were wrapped so perfectly around his dick, pumping hard and fast and leaving stars flickering behind Samilen's eyes.

"Very alright," the man finally had sense to say, his hips pressing back and finding a welcome, hard shape jutting against his ass; it only seemed to make the fire burn hotter in his belly, if only to know that the action wasn't one-sided . "So very alright."

He keened as X'rhun's fingers found a pace that pushed him closer, so close to the edge that he felt almost feverish, but Samilen felt nothing short of wondrous and hot and perfect in being under the mercy of the other's hand, the control of his pleasure left to the yearning of someone he yearned so lewdly for.

X'rhun purrs, nipping at the shell of Samilen's ear. He continues his breakneck pace, feeling the urge to kiss or bit at Samilen's neck but that would be too... familiar and he wasn't exactly sure how the other miqo'te felt about this yet. This ... relationship? Between them. All he knows is that when he grinds his cock against the other man's ass it causes him to groan, letting out a swear as he tries to gather himself, for Samilen's sake. 

"Do you want more of this, baby?" He manages to murmur, hiding his face against Samilen's shoulder, "Do you want me to fuck you more?"

"Fuck," is all Samilen has to say at first, his mind practically reeling at the petname as it lingers in the hot, humid air. It's the second time he's heard it and the second time still his body reacts like lightning, cock throbbing so hard that he wants to sob and can almost feel tears of delicious frustration gathering in the corners of his eyes. It's all X'rhun's fault, all the crystal's fault--all his own fault--but it's delicious and wonderful and Samilen doesn't want it to stop for even a moment, turning his head so he can even catch a glimpse of the man behind him, his sopping-wet tail trying uselessly to twist and wrap around the other's waist as if to tug him closer.

"Please," he finally whines. "Fuck me more fuck me more--I want to cum with your cock inside me-!"

X'rhun groans at that, bucking his hips up, grinding his cock against Samilen's thigh as he nods.

"Then you will.”

Slowly he removes his hand from Samilen's cock, letting the rock hard appendage bob in the air as he teases a finger at his hole. The water would have to suffice, since they were already both so wet that lube would not properly function. Besides, he wasn't about to leave Samilen's side to go fetch it.

Samilen hisses for only a moment at the relinquishing of pressure from around his cock. Though his ass presses back into the delicious, teasing pleasure of X'rhun's fingertip wetly pressing against his entrance, Samilen wants for more. His tail lashes again, loosened from it's grip and now wiggling uselessly around the other's arm.

When it's obvious that X'rhun has no immediate intention of returning his hand back to the keeper's throbbing dick, Samilen decides to take matters literally in his own hands, if only to sate the biting heat in his belly, to stave off the taut need that only gets tauter the more he feels that blunt, calloused digit rubbing at his hole. He reaches his free hand down between his thighs, fingers wrapping around his cock tight enough that it almost hurts, and he is quick to resume stroking himself in earnest.

X'rhun hums, smacking Samilen's hand away from his cock, nipping at his ear. 

"You will only get satisfaction from me," He didn't exactly know where this was coming from, but perhaps it was the heat of the moment making him possessive. He presses his finger in, slowly as to not hurt Samilen, curling it. His cock is hard against Samilen's back, and he works hard not to thrust himself to completion against him.

There's a feeling that fills Samilen's chest, a feeling that he can scarcely describe when he feels his hand get smacked away from his own cock though it begs desperately for attention. He is certain that if it was anyone else behind him, anyone else pressed naked against his form, Samilen would have ignored their command with little hesitation (assuming he'd even be in this sort of situation with them in the first place). But for X'rhun, Samilen merely mewled through his teeth and listened, both of his hands moving to press up against the wall in front of him, leaning forward and taking the press of the other man's finger deeper within his body.

"F-...uck..." he hisses, toes almost curling when the curl of X'rhun's finger finds something that makes his body flicker with heat and delight. "R-right th-there, ahhh y-yesssss~"

The seeker can't keep the self satisfied smile off his lips. He presses another finger into Samilen’s ass, thrusting and twisting them both in earnest against the other’s tight rim. He was a large man, and Samilen himself was quite small. X'rhun certainly didn't want to hurt the man, this was supposed to be his release from ... whatever he was feeling. He leans into him, pressing kisses against the length of his neck. 

"You won't cum until I tell you to cum." He murmurs, blue eyes hooded and dark with lust.

The words flood Samilen like lava, burning him down to the very core so much that it feels almost hard to breathe for a few seconds. They spark something in his mind like a whirlwind, turning his actions into instinct and his words into reaction with no filter. 

"Yes sir," he moans, almost sobs as X'rhun's curled fingers find that perfect spot within him again. "Only wh-when y-ou...tell....meee~" Calloused fingertips rub over what feels like some patch of nerves that send pleasurable lightning up Samilen's spine--his tail all but curls around the other man's arm, thrashing uselessly otherwise.  Heat blooms over his face and chest as his legs spread almost upon instinct, as if his body knew to prepare itself to be taken--and it couldn't happen quickly enough for the lust coursing through the keeper's veins.

X'rhun grunts, removing his fingers slowly, trying to ignore the way his dick twitches at the sound that very movement makes. He presses close, breath catching across Samilen's neck as he position's himself at the smaller Miqo'te's entrance. "Tell me if it hurts," He warns, teasing his head against the tight hole that threatens to engulf him even now, even as a hand goes to grip firmly onto Samilen's bicep.

Samilen tries to consider words, but eventually just nods his head and hopes that the man can see his acknowledgement. He feels X'rhun's body press against him, feels the hot, thick shape of his cock nudging inside. It's a lot to take at once, but the Seeker is slow and gentle--slower than what Samilen might have tried to greedily take for himself if given half a moment of control between them. 

It's good though, so good, and he has to try desperately to remember to breathe as the head of X'rhun's cock finally presses past the tight muscles of his entrance--it's enough for him to shiver and shake, claws scratching uselessly against the cold, smooth walls that supported most of his body weight.

X'rhun maintains his threads of control, no matter how frail they have become with Samilen's wanton moans. He presses in closer, letting his chest rest against Samilen's back as he, slowly but surely, sheathes himself within the smaller man. He pants, brows creasing as he shuts his eyes against the stimulation. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't move, it was a desperate attempt not to hurt Samilen and he'd rather die than commit such an act against his ... pupil? Student? What were they now?

Thoughts and emotions drip through Samilen's mind like sand through barely-cupped  hands. It's no use to try and make sense of any of them--all he can do is briefly catch each little snippet as it passes by in a whirlwind of heat and pleasure, to be better and deeper-considered far later into the evening. 

Instead of logic or consideration or even the caution of shame to still his hands or mute his words, Samilen moans into the thick press of X'rhun's cock. It slides inside him with only the mildest of discomfort, though slow enough that impatience starts to trickle down through the haze of pleasure. He presses his hips back, hoping with all the desperation of a pleasure-driven man if only to hurry the Seeker's pace, to fill himself fully and sheath that beautiful cock within his needy body.

"X'rhun-" Samilen's voice breaks on the syllable of the man's name. "Want--...all of you. 'm not gonna---gonna break..."

With how perfectly such a heat fills him, Samilen already feels shattered, his mind warped around need and his chest aching for the intimacy of X'rhun's hot body pressed against his own for however long the sweet high of sex will have them.

X'rhun hisses against the sweet embrace of Samilen's body. He was warmth and heat around him, against him, pressed firmly against his chest and his cock. He was smaller, warmer, and every part of him shouted to just plow into him. To blow his load deep within the boy in front of him and be done with it. It's what a Nuhn would do. He swallows against the thoughts, closing his eyes firmly against the smells and sensations, against the incessant instincts that well up deep within his chest. 

He fits his hands firmly against Samilen's hips, pressing his thumbs against the divots of his hips. X'rhun presses forwards with a grunt, the pleasure shivering through his nerves like lightning. And he should really know a thing or two about lightening. A sharp tooth peeks from betwixt his teeth, biting down on his bottom lip in some sort of vain attempt to stop himself from saying anything else ridiculous.

A gasp slips from Samilen's lips, one he can't hide fast enough. His lips part, his jaw drops and his brows knight tight above his tightly-shut eyes as the sudden feeling of spreading muscles and intrusion pass over him. There's a burn in X'rhun's girth, one that though the young Keeper had prepared for, it was still far from smooth and painless. 

Though it brought a shiver down his spine and a stiffening to his body, Samilen couldn't much deny it was a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain, something carnal or perhaps even primal, a flicker of heedless abandon giving him the gift of not having to think at all about what he wants or how he wants it. Shame has little place in the baser activities of a creature.

"Oh gods, yessss!" Samilen all but hisses, his toes and tail curling as the man presses deeper and deeper still, pulling his hips against him in a possessive and powerful motion of command that in itself was arousing. He wants to mewl, to yowl, to hiss and spit--whether it's instincts going haywire in a response to pleasure or to some pheromone Samilen is yet to recognize, he can hardly know. All that his body knows is that he's being taken, being fucked, being split open on a cock so thick that there's no second-guess that X'rhun could have taken place as a Nuhn if he had decided to stay in his tribe.

X'rhun lets his nose slip against Samilen's hair, taking in his scent like that of a Nuhn in rut. He had to admit that the noises Samilen let loose between his lips were more than inviting. Some part of him wants to imagine a future with the other male. To call him mate. To keep him. But he knows that part is selfish. Too selfish. Too horny to even take the thoughts seriously, and yet...

"Do you like this," He murmurs into his ear, eyes closed as he begins to move in earnest now. The rotation of his hips are slow but they promise more, the night was still young and as long as Samilen still mewled and moaned beneath him he wouldn't stop. "Tell me what you want. Tell me how it feels." He presses his fingers harder against Samilen's hips, promising bruises. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

The entirety of a moment felt like a wave of heat over Samilen's body, threatening not just to send his thoughts swirling but to sweep them entirely out into the sea. The slow pace of the Seeker's hips felt maddening and deliberate, which only made the pleasure all the more tantalizing and raw and real. It carried with it the air of their time under the eaves of the bar in Thanalan--the heat and yearning and desperation--but this was more intimate and slow and tender. This was so much and, at first, Samilen merely mewled in unfiltered pleasure when X'rhun's cockhead rubbed perfectly up against the inside of his body, brushing over sensitive nerves.

"It feels so good--you're so fucking b-big--" Samilen breathes, his chest barely able to get in enough air to speak before his hammering heart needs more. "I want-....I...want...."

He takes in a breath, gulps it down like it's water and he's been without for weeks. Thoughts are useless, shame is useless--the young Keeper can barely register anything beyond the pleasure and heat and air thick with steam and pheromones of lust.

"Marks," he finally says, a desperate whisper. "Mark me up. Make me yours. Please. I--I want to feel it all in the morning. Want to ache and remember---remember this."

He lets out a breath through his nose. A part of X'rhun basks in the attention. He wants marks. He wants a mate. He wants X'rhun as his Nuhn and he would gladly give it to him. Instead he presses it back, stomps it down. He doesn't know what Samilen wants, not exactly, but he knows what he can give him. 

To take right now ... it would be against his very teachings. Samilen isn't balanced enough to give, isn't balanced enough for X'rhun to ask something of him. A growl sounds from him as he presses forward, giving the Keeper a particularly hard thrust as he fights with himself. Not too much, but not too little either. 

"I'll give you anything you want." He finally says, nipping at Samilens ear before his hands are moving down, pressing over his thighs and leaving scratches over the soft, sensitive skin. "Anything." He whispers, practically engulfing Samilen as he works himself into him.

 Guilty. Selfish. Daring the young keeper to say the words.

Anything, he says, and the word echoes through Samilen's head. It's a whisper, a promise, and it's all the younger of the two men can do to clutch it against his chest and try to surmise an answer more than what he already forced from his moan-wrecked throat. It's confusing for a moment, unsure why X'rhun would have Samilen repeat himself, or--or was he saying it to himself? Was he babbling, lost in pleasure and barely knowing what he's saying? Though the questions slip into Samilen's thoughts, they too are quickly swept away by the rapturous pleasure eeking through his body, swallowing him up deeper with every slow but powerful thrust of the other man's hips. Every press of his cock, every reminder of how deep he's able to go that it makes Samilen gasp each time.

"Bite me," Samilen finally hisses, head tilting to the side in open invitation of his neck, where his aching body is naturally wanting to be claimed, to feel the sink of teeth of a dominant lover into his flesh. "I want it--want all of it--just give it to me, Rhun."

X'ruhn's jaw sets. There was a mewling, sex-wrecked man beneath him. His ever instinct was to claim to pump Samilen full of his seed and make him his. To bite down on his neck and make sure that every Nuhn that ever met him knew that he had been fucked and filled by another. That he was his and here he was begging for it. Did Samilen even know that that meant? To Seekers? To Nuhns? He tries to shake it off. No. He didn't understand and he didn't know what that meant. But he finds himself leaning, kissing and licking at his pulse, breathing in his scent even as his hips continue to work, continue to fuck the man beneath him. 

This would be taking. It would be taking too much. Samilen didn't have this much to give. 

"Samilen..." He murmurs, eyes glassy, cock deep within him.

Hesitation. Unsure. Caution. This Samilen could sense, could feel and taste it on the vapor-filled air. It wasn't for fear or genuine unwillingness, no--though addled with pleasure and seeking the euphoria that his body craved, the Keeper was still a man with senses enough to feel how X'rhun stiffened, how his voice was tense, how his breathing was strained and labored even with the slow and careful motions of his hips. 

The water of the shower was starting to run cool, water dripping down hot flesh like a fresh rain, offering but the slightest shake of lustful haze from the younger man's thoughts so that he could speak with some confidence in his voice.

He had to weigh his words carefully--not in that he was afraid of indulging and having and wanting, but to make sure the message was clear, that he didn't addle X'rhun with the guilt of making a decision he assumed Samilen wouldn't want.

But he wants. He yearns. The feelings have been burning in Samilen's belly and chest since the moment he took the soulstone in hand--perhaps they had even been within him since he had first met X'rhun himself, made only unbearable by the intimate memories that drove such genuine but shameful feelings to the forefront of the Keepers mind.

"Make me yours," Samilen finally says, his tone biting and his body almost shaking with pleasure, muscles tight around the other's throbbing, wondrous, perfect cock. "If you want me, take me--make me yours." Shame was nowhere to be found in his mind in that moment, shaken clean by lust and want and pheromones enough to be drunk on. "Be my Nuhn."

X'rhun liked to think he'd journeyed and done much. He'd been wizened by years on the road and, before that, years in the resistance. He'd thought he'd seen everything. Evil kings, rebellions, the massacre of his friends, the rise of the Garlean Empire. But he had never done this. Never been brave enough, or stupid enough, to claim his most trusted of lovers. Even when they had begged him for it, he had not done it. He'd made it sound like a selfless choice, to not bind his lovers to a man who would, inevitably, wander too far. But even then he had known, as he does now in this moment, that it had been selfish. X'rhun hadn't been ready. He'd never been ready for it. He knew what the responsibilities would be and it had all seemed too much at the time. But now...

Now he had a mewling and withering warrior of light beneath him. None before him had known, had understood what his pain had been like. Samilen had slayed primals. Had slayed gods. All in the name of a greater good. And in doing so had lost much. Perhaps too much. Too much of himself. Too many friends. Finally someone could understand the pain and the triumph he had went through and maybe ... maybe someone finally understood Samilen.

It's almost beautiful, the way he presses himself against Samilen, the way he seats himself deep inside his lover, his mate. And the way that he opens his mouth wide against his pulse, breathing a hot breath there before he allows himself to bite down, to draw blood as he cums deep inside the younger man, groaning as his vision goes white and his world goes still. The cold water on his back doesn't matter. His code, the one he had lived by for so long, doesn't matter. All that matters is Samilen and only Samilen. 

His mate.

His.

The world practically snaps, like a bowstring pulled too-taught by inexperienced hands over the ends of a bow. Pleasure and pain mix together into pure euphoria, an amalgamation of sensations that not only bring Samilen to the edge of climax, it outright shoves him off the cliff. The feeling is rough and hard and intense despite the slow lovemaking, the careful press of a cock inside his pliant, willing body, ridges constantly catching at the rim of Samilen's entrance and then--suddenly--it's all so much. Not too much, never too much, because Samilen knows that he could drink down this sensation for the rest of his life if he had the choice.

The pain of teeth sinking into the flesh of his neck is wondrous, dazzling behind his eyes and sending tremors of pleasure down to the tips of his fingers and toes. When X'rhun presses against him one last time, seating his cock to the base with hips flush against the Keeper's ass, Samilen can't help but let out a mewl. The intensity of feeling someone release inside of him, the heat of cum dripping down the inside of his thighs, of making him feel marked and used and protected in the most carnal ways--it's soothing, it's satisfying. He feels the way thumbs dig into his hips, knows that there will be marks across his skin and a heat within his belly for days to come--and Samilen smiles for it. He feels heat fill his cheeks and his lips quirk when another moan works its way from his throat, high and keening, a sound as welcoming as his body as orgasm milks the man's cock for all it offers, as if to coax out every little drop of his hot seed.

With every breath is X'rhun's name, a mantra on Samilen's lips.

X'rhun shudders, once, twice. He keeps his teeth sunken deep into his mate's skin. It will scar, like it is meant to, and those who know what it means will understand. Only after the blood begins to seep down his chin does he pull away. He chest heaves with each breath and he can feel his eyes slowly contract into small pinpricks of what they once were. His dick is still firmly planted in Samilen and he can feel it as his body wrings every last drop out of him. It's not unpleasant and he leans back into the, now cold, water as it rains down on both of them his hips spasming in a vague attempt at a thrust.

He swallows, coming back to himself. A conversation would need to be had. How much of this had Samilen truly wanted? And how much of this had been hazy lust? 

The red mage tries to recall what his father taught him, going through his memories like an encyclopedia, or a manual. It was a hard bond to break, but it could be broken. Mating marks were the best way to ensure a proper mating, but it could be achieved in other ways. Usually cubs were spawned from marking but X'rhun highly doubted that such a thing would happen with this case ... He frowns, he knew a lot less about this than he wanted to and here Samilen was bearing his mark and his seed. 

He slides a hand under the other man's chest, bringing him up to stand before pulling himself from him slowly. In one fluid movement the shower is off and in the next, Samilen is bridal style in his arms.

Samilen himself couldn't help but purr in satisfied delight as calloused fingertips brush against his almost too-sensitive skin, the rumble coming from deep within his chest. He felt so full, could feel the blossoming of heat in the pit of his belly. It was as if something deeply primal within his mind had been sated. Some fierce need, some unknown desire--it finally felt calmed by the warmth, the pressure, the pleasure and oh, yes, the slight pain with every shift of Samilen's shoulders and head, a reminder of the fresh mark bitten deep into his skin. He knew that there was significance in it, and deep down he knew exactly what he had asked for--but there was a strange fear that he had pressed to hard and pushed X'rhun into something he didn't want.

Luckily the afterglow was strong enough to stifle down most of the worries, keeping Samilen calm and placid as X'rhun lifted him into his arms and Samilen, instinctively, wrapped an arm around the back of the Seeker's neck. He lets out a soft hiss, a shiver working down his spine at the jostling of his body, the reminder of future bruises and the messy drip of seed finally working it's way out of his body without a cock to keep it inside. 

But he doesn't say anything. Not yet. He is hard-pressed to find the words to start the conversation now-hanging between them. Though the last time could have been chalked up to a rendezvous of hormones, this is far more serious--something that can't be alluded to or assumed, can't be hidden or swept out of the air. Samilen hoped, dreadfully, that he didn't force his mentor to do something he didn't wish for.

X'rhun carries him into the bedroom. Both of them are dripping wet but he can't find it in him to care. He lays Samilen down on the bed, making sure he is comfortable before he goes back into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him, taking a deep breath before grabbing his trousers and slipping them on. Only because he wanted to save face, that's what he tells himself. Not because his cock was already stirring again. Certainly not. He puts on his shirt too, for good measure. Maybe it would make Samilen feel better. Maybe. He grabs several towels as well, moving back to the bed with them in tow. His Ma-student. His student looks pliant and soft against the downy sheets and he can't help but purr at the sight. He kneels at his beside, beginning to massage the wet out of his hair with gentle circles. 

It is only after he has dried Samilen's hair that he dares to look at the mark. It is bright red against his gray skin and some deep part of him is proud. Proud that he was able to mate such a magnificent- X'rhun shakes his head. No. He shouldn't be thinking like that and yet-

He moves, his own teacher would have been proud at how agile he was, moves over Samilen's body and to the other side of the bed so that he might have easier access to it. To his marking. He approaches it like a nervous animal. Tentative. Gentle. Skittish. And then, when he believes that nothing will harm him. He begins laving over it with his tongue. The taste of blood is still there, but he can't help the purr that leaves his chest as he licks it, again and again. Goading it to heal. Breath hot on Samilen's neck.

Samilen can't remember the last time he felt...blissful. He can't remember a time where he had the freedom to simply not think about much of anything, to simply lay on the bed with his mind still swimming with pleasure and body humming with satisfaction. He can't remember but a single time where he had found himself in this position but able to owe the blood and marks and ache to something other than a hard-fought battle against a primal or an army or....or anything else. He can't remember a time where he didn't feel the weight of the world on his shoulders or the burn of the Scions' gazes upon his back--because he wasn't allowed to fail. To relax. To want something for himself. To want someone else to save the world--to take care of him for once in his time as the 'Warrior of Light'.

He's nervous when X'rhun returns, only because he returns with clothes on; it makes the keeper suddenly feel ashamed, or at least as if what they did was stupid or silly, to be forgotten as quick as their last heated exchange under the starry sky of Thanalan. He worries about that, because he cannot forget it--Samilen can't forget how happy he felt when X'rhun's hands lay on his hips, their lips together, or even the silly, stupid but beloved sensation of the man pressed against his body, orgasm passed but drinking up the mere intimacy of still being connected to one another.

So Samilen doesn't meet the other's gaze, his throat tight and his heartbeat skipping. He suddenly feels like a child, in a way, as if he's made a mistake to be chastised about once he too is in a proper state of dress.

But when X'rhun shifts, moves to the other side of the bed--when he leans down and presses his face into Samilen's neck, his tongue over the still-aching mark, he can't help but let out a noise. It's something soft, a mere whisper of a mewl, something he tries to muffle even as his body shakes and one of his hands shoot out to grab a fistful of the other man's shirt, as if making sure he couldn't pull away.

"Please," Is all Samilen can say.

X'rhun closes his eyes. His lips a thin line. His ears pressing back against his skull. He had to admit it. Admit it to himself. He'd been trying to teach Samilen, yes, but he'd also wanted ... this. He hadn't wanted to be alone anymore. He'd tried to teach Alisaie (mind you he had never thought of her romantically or sexually as she was just a child) but she had run off as soon as she'd had a firm grasp of her training. But then Samilen ... Samilen had been different. Maybe that's why he'd allowed him to have the soul stone. Maybe that's why he'd let him have the piece of himself. Maybe that was why he was letting him so close. Maybe ... Maybe...

He licks the mark one more time before he moves, moves to claim Samilen's mouth with his own, moves to press close against him. He fits his mouth against his, the click of teeth, the swirling of tongues. X'rhun sighs and it feels like he's letting out decades of stress. Of holding back. Of not allowing himself to have this. It had always been something. The revolution. The death of his comrades. Ala Mhigo's occupation. He'd always been chasing it. Always been trying to fix something but now..

Now he loses himself in the kiss, loses himself in the smell, feel, taste of Samilen Jawantal.

A shiver of delight spills down Samilen's spine as X'rhun all but climbs atop him, their lips pressed hard and tongues pressing harder against one another. Fingers grip hard into the soft fabric of the Seeker's shirt, joined by a second hand as they grasp at his chest needily, stupidly, the confusion back once more for why X'rhun thought it necessary to clothe himself in the first place. Though he may feel shame of it later, when his mind not so clogged with emotions, but Samilen was needy and desperate to keep the other man close, to feel his warmth, to enjoy the fleeting time with him for as long as he and fate would allow it--because she wasn't often kind to Samilen.

"Why did you get dressed?" The younger man finally forces himself to ask, if only to still his hands from trying to remove the offending undershirt. If there was a reason that he did so, and a reason that Samilen had to respect. "Do you--do you need to leave?"

He hates how the words spill from his lips, the whisper almost fearful against X'rhun's mouth, eyes afraid to open and meet his gaze.

X'rhun closes his eyes, only lifting up enough to stare down at Samilen's face. It was open, wild with want. X'rhun could paint a million pictures of it and still never get it right. He shivers, feels his cock stir once more. He clears his throat, eyes dancing away. 

"It was to ... hold myself back. In case I take you again before your mind is yours once more." it was the truth. X'rhun wanted to speak with Samilen before they began to fuck like they were in heat. Which he was liable too, with the way that Samilen looked at him and they way his mark sat on his neck. He swallows. "I wish to ... I wish to make sure that this-" He nods to the red welt on the other man's neck, "-is what you want. What you truly want. Outside of being sex addled." 

He presses a gentle hand through still damp white hair, "And ... I want you to rest. Truly rest. I do not know how long it has been since you've done so and I ..." He presses his forehead against Samilen's unable to stop the small source of affection. "...I worry for you Samilen."

The words are sobering. Samilen tenses for a moment, feeling it work into his jaw as teeth clench tight and anxiety wells in the back of his head. Though his eyes open he cannot stare into X'rhun's own for very long--perhaps just a breath of time, though the touch of X'rhun's forehead against his own offers some mild comfort. Though he knows his own feelings, the way that the other man speaks, the way he words his thoughts--Samilen is unsure if he should feel ashamed or not for feeling the way he did--the way he still does. He nods after a moment, knowing that no words that come from his lips would be seen as honest until X'rhun was satisfied with the air between them--but it still frustrated Samilen. 

"You would be the first," he says at last, eyes drifting off to the side. "Or at least the first to offer more than empty words."

Samilen takes a moment to take a breath, and then finally lets it out, speaking once more before he can allow the morbid weight of his words to sink too deeply into the air.

"If you want to put space between us until you are satisfied to know I'm telling the truth, then so be it. My answer will be the same as it was when you came upon me in the bathroom."

X'rhun nods. He wants to be sure ... to know that what Samilen says is what his heart of heart wants. But even these words give him hope. Make his heart catch and beat faster. He can't hide it from himself now. If Samilen will allow it, X'rhun wants to be in love with him. Wants to keep this mating. Wants ... everything from him. He closes his eyes, tries to focus against the tightness in his chest. "I believe you." he says, letting his fingers card through the other man's hair, focusing his eyes on the movement of his own fingers. "But this ... conversation. About what we both want ... it will wait until sunrise. Until we are both well rested and ready for what that entails." He lets blue meet yellow again. "Samilen I ..." He lets out a breath through his nose, swallowing thickly. "... Have much to say about the matter."

He moves, pressing a gentle kiss to the mark on his neck, before he is pressing close to Samilen, maneuvering them both until chest meets back and an arm is slung over the other's waist. "But I will not say them. Not now." He murmurs. "Not until we are both rested."

Deep down, Samilen is comforted by the seriousness of X'rhun's tone of voice. He is comforted by the care and concern as much as he is frightened by it. It would be too easy for someone to take advantage of lust-addled emotions and euphoria-induced infatuation, especially for someone as broken as Samilen is under the weight of anything that doesn't pertain to slaying primals or saving lives--things that need no extra thought needed to understand them. For as much as he feels anxious about words to be held in the morning, he is comforted deeply by it--that X'rhun sees his emotions as something worthy of caution, emotions worthy of thought and attention and....respect.

It is more than he can say of many people even when emotions of infatuation weren't caught up in the mix. He swallows down a stone in his throat and takes in a breath, merely letting his body press back against X'rhun's own as they lay together in bed. He appreciates the weight of the Seeker's arm over his body. It makes his chest tighten and his stomach flip a little.

"Okay," The man finally says with a nod, letting out a breath. His eyes start to shut and his mind slow down at last to the yearning for sleep that overtakes him.

X'rhun relaxes at that, lets his guard down. Samilen was not going to be angry with him. Would not scorn and shun him. At least, not this night. Not right now. He lets his nose press against white hair, he lets his eyes close, and most importantly he lets himself go to sleep.


End file.
